| EIGHT MONTHS EARLIER |
“I’m on your side!”
Artemis raised her fist again, ready to pummel the mercenary again. Bucky grabbed her forearm with both hands, sweating a little as he strained to hold her back. “Damn it… stop!”
“Why? He is one of them!”
“One of who!? S.O.V.? I’m not with them now!”
“Then why do you wear their insignia and colors?”
Roy looked down at his body armor, noticing that familiar horse logo and bold lettering. “I just put in my two weeks.”
Artemis tensed her arm again, nearly breaking free of Bucky’s grasp. But the old timer held on. “Let’s hear him out.” The standoff remained tense, and Artemis finally managed to break free of the man’s grasp. Her closed fist rocketed towards Roy’s face, before impacting the sand right next to his head. The impact left a ringing in his ear, causing him to reflexively reach up to cover it. The Amazon got off of the mercenary, and Bucky offered a metallic hand to help the man stand.
Roy, instead, crawled a foot away in his back. “My unit was just called in from an assignment in Subsaharan Africa. Been here about a week, protecting some sort of non-profit research center a few miles from here. They’ve been clearing the place out, transporting materials to an airfield north of here. We’ve been running patrols through the area, keeping an eye out for Quraci rebels. We finally got a call, drones picked up a convoy of them. My team was sent to intercept, and I… I couldn't… I couldn't…”
Bucky sighed. "Civilians?”
Roy nodded his head, taking a moment to collect himself. “Metas. Said they’d been run off from their homes. Called in to HQ, and they…" Roy's voice broke as his breath caught in his throat. "I couldn’t do it.”
Bucky turned his gaze to Artemis with a smug grin. Artemis’ rage was clearly evident, but she remained silent. “Look, Mr. Harper… we’ve got business with your friends. So, we’ll be taking your vehicle and paying them a visit. You can hitch a ride with your friends and-”
“I’m coming with you.”
Artemis’ expression hardened even further, as her attention snapped back to the mercenary. “And why would we entertain such a notion?”
“I’ve got a winning smile?” Roy’s toothy grin did not seem to do him any favors. “And I can get you in the front door.”
Bucky and Artemis shared a look, having a silent and fully visual disagreement for a few moments. The Amazon relented, storming off into the back of the armored transport. Bucky clapped his hands. “Then you’re driving.”
Interaction(s): None| NOW |
“These things are a lot more cramped than they are in the movies.”
Underneath Coast City was a network of narrow tunnels, slick with a few inches of running water and a foul odor it was best to ignore. This wasn’t Roy’s first shit job, and Artemis had spent more than enough time tending to stables in Bana-Mighdall as a child. For the first time, it seemed something had finally broken through Hollow’s hard exterior. Within the first five minutes, Hollow had wretched out nearly all the content of her stomach. She seemed better once Bucky let her get a whiff of some sort of smelling salts he had on hand, but her complexion seemed a bit more of a rose color.
The Outlaws spent several hours carrying large, water-proof carrying cases through the sewers, guided only by the dim flashlights they had clipped to their jackets. Bucky paused every time they came to an intersection of tunnels, taking a careful scan of the tunnel walls before picking a direction. The entire time, Artemis was more focused on ignoring the dull pain of constantly bumping her head or scraping her broad shoulders against the rough-hewn brick walls than she was on where they were going. She only prayed they found the refugees before she gave herself a concussion.
It was clear they were on the right path by the noise. They had opted to travel into Coast City under the cover of night, meaning the sounds of traffic and city life was far more subdued as it trickled in through various pipes and drains. But as the Outlaws approached the subterranean camp, they heard the faint sounds of children’s laughter and hushed admonishments echoing down the passage. Bucky raised a fist to signal for the team to stop, turning back to give Artemis a nod. She had been second in their single-file line, and gave her comrade a nod. Without another sound, Bucky slowly splashed down the tunnel alone. He went right down an intersection up ahead, and let out a series of sharp whistles. Two short, one long and a short one. She did not understand the code, but Roy rolled his eyes. “Friend, really?”
“What?”
“It’s a code… a combination of short and long sounds to make letters.”
“So that sound means friend?”
Artemis’ questions, as always, were genuine. Roy could feel Hollow’s gaze on his back: she clearly had the same question. “He whistled the letter F… easier to learn than the whole word. And enough to get the point across.” His explanation seemed to sate the others’ curiosity, leaving them all bathed in silence and shadow for a few minutes. Roy’s ears perked up as he heard three sharp whistles. “And that must mean it’s safe.”
The small camp was claustrophobic, shoved into a clearly abandoned storage and utility room tucked into the labyrinthine sewer system. Hammocks and cots were scattered haphazardly in the space, while numerous electric lamps hanging from the ceiling illuminated the space. Suitcases and backpacks were scattered about and being used for pillows and cushions as folks sat in small clusters. A group of children seemed to be playing with small action figures and dolls in a corner, while a half-finished game of cards lay unfinished on a suitcase in the middle of the room. Several of the refugees looked indistinguishable from those unaffected by the meta-bomb. Others had some obvious signs: strange pupils, slightly discolored skin, or very pronounced veins. One child appeared to have gills and fins protruding from his neck and arms respectively. Bucky stood next to a woman whose hair seemed to shift and sway without the assistance of a breeze. She politely nodded to the Outlaws. “Thank you. We were beginning to lose hope of making it out of here.”
Artemis gave a small nod back. “I was never told as to what exactly we were bringing.”
The woman chuckled softly, turning her gaze back towards Bucky. “I am pleased that I am not the only one being kept in the dark here. I was worried I was being left out.”
Roy smiled broadly, setting down his crates and making a show of stretching his sore back now that he had a bit of room. “Yeah, don’t take it personally, he’s cryptic with everyone. Makes eating out a nightmare for the servers.” His barb seemed to elicit a small chuckle from the woman and several nearby listeners, which Bucky knew was a costly victory for the marksman’s ego.
While the others talked, Bucky was busy opening one of the cases, and began to remove a camera, tripod, and neutral-toned banner. The woman took a look at the contents, nodding as she began to put the pieces together. “I see… Tom, can you get this set up? Everyone needs a photo.” A plain man with large, dilated pupils gave a brief nod and began setting up the equipment.
“Roy, why don’t you help them out and get the printer set up. It’s in the red crate.” Bucky’s tone was less of an order and more of a request for once, which managed to wipe the smile off Roy’s face. Bucky’s eyes had turned to Hollow, who had slinked over towards another teenage girl with blue skin. Roy understood Bucky’s meaning, and gave a nod.
“Alright… who’s ready for their close-up?”
"Why did you ask for a rush job?"
The group stopped as Bucky leaned against the wall in front of the meta-human. She stopped, stuck between Bucky and the large form of Artemis that stood behind her. "I'm sure you saw the checkpoints. It's not safe here anymore."
Bucky reached into the breast pocket of his jacket, producing a half-finished cigar he lit with the palm of his bionic arm. "Try again, or we walk."
The woman squirmed, her hair begin to literally raise into the air defensively. Each strand coiled and swayed like a den of snakes. Artemis felt a pang of guilt at the reminder of the fickleness of the gods. The woman eventually let out a panicked explanation. "There's a larger group that avoided the roundup, run by a guy who calls himself the Mangler. We pay him for protection from the Feds and gangs. He's been raising the prices, and he's trying to recruit. We don't want to be here when he... well..."
"Kicks the hive of bees."
Silence fell over the group as the woman desperately tried to untangle the expression. Bucky let out a long sigh of smoke as he tilted his head back and forth, doing the calculations in his head. "We should be able to get you and your people out in about three days. I could probably push it up a day, but as long as you stay out of the Mangler's way, we're golden."
Another pause of silence emerged, before the woman spoke again. "He wants his payment tomorrow night."
"I do not understand how this is a complication." Artemis' brow was knit as she turned her gaze towards Bucky, who seemed to grimace at the news.
The woman clarified, "He knows we are somewhere in the sewers."
Bucky began to slowly pace away from the group. He muttered something that sounded obscene under his breath in a language neither of them understood.
"We can just pay him, then." Artemis spoke with confidence. She knew that they had cash from their last job, certainly enough.
"He wants Tora. Frank's niece." The woman's voice seemed to grow weak, as she began to understand the futility of her situation.
"Then we stop him." A resolute firmness lined Artemis' words, which were met quickly by the rapid steps of Bucky's return.
Bucky hissed, "Picking fights with metas isn't part of the deal."
"No, please, you can't-"
"We will figure it out. We will adapt the plan." Artemis turned her gaze to Bucky. The matter was settled. "We will help them."
Bucky extinguished his cigar into his bionic palm, spitting out a response through gritted teeth.
"Fine. But I need to make a call.” 
Antlers
King Xerxes
CabbageAngel
Oso
Eddie Brock
Mjolnir
Obscene Symphony
OfficerHeadbutt
Half Pint
Not a Sayan
